In the words of my eighth graders, I thought today would suck. It has been four weeks, 28 days, since that fateful night when my life changed forever.
It actually turned out to be a day filled with peace. The peace that passes all understanding. God was with me today, and so was Glenn.
I'm beginning to explore the meaning of peace, as not being the absence of pain or suffering, but as living in the light of God's love.
(Frank Gray- I'm taking great liberty with your quote here and I give you all the credit. I changed your statement of God's will, to God's love. We will talk :))
I spent the day looking closely for the first time, assessing the "state of the union." There were boxes, etc. from my mom's move and remnants of the four-day-wake that happened here after Glenn's death. For the first time, I could think and begin to organize.
I sorted papers and threw stuff away. I rearranged some things in my closet. Baby steps toward the big move of discarding his clothes, although I'm not there yet.
But, I did change our sheets. I did it with some ceremony; lying down on his side etc. and weirdly kissing where his body laid that final time. I did not change his pillowcase, because if I bury my nose in it, I can still smell his humanness, and it brings me comfort.
There were no tears today. I haven't even watched the clock as I've done every Sunday since his death.
A visit to some friends' house turned into a dinner invitation. It still feels weird to be responsible only for myself, but I had a lovely time.
A welcome surprise.